


Platonic Snuggles in Winter

by TourmalineQueen



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst is light to intermittent, Asexual Aziraphale, Asexual Crowley, Asexual Relationship, Comment Fic, Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Platonic Cuddling, winter snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: For Comment-Fic 100 Words on Weather theme, any, any, cuddling by the fire on a icy winter dayI ... did not count the words, pretty sure I went over.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley
Kudos: 10
Collections: Asexual Good Omens, Bite Sized Bits of Fic, Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2021





	Platonic Snuggles in Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).



"Dear? You look cold. Are you sure you don't want me to light a fire?" Aziraphale asked, pretending he couldn't hear Crowley's teeth chattering.

"NO FIRE!" Crowley snapped, then gave a full-body-shudder. "Why mussst it be ssso bloody cold?"

"You said it in Wessex, dear. The damp air makes the cold feel colder," Aziraphale answered, opening his arms inviting the chilled demon to share his warmth. He brightened as an idea occurred to him.

"I could ward the fireplace, prevent to much as a single stray spark to escape, but it will heat the room nicely, if that would be acceptable. Or would you prefer to freeze to discorporation and warm up in Hell?"

"Bastard," Crowley grumbled fondly, settling into the angel's arms. It was that four-letter-word beginning with N that he didn't much like, but the room was still too cold for his serpent self. He hesitated, then, reluctantly muttered, "'f there's no chance of anything burning down..."

"Dear, you know I am a Principality, a being of protection. MY wards are so good even the Archangels cannot undo them. It's why I was set to guard Eden. Not that I intend to boast, it is simply a fact of my existence."

"Boast? You? Pride? You? Never," Crowley teased, and moved aside to let Aziraphale up.

The demon watched the angel write several sigils around the hearth and grate with his finger, the glow of his angelic power lighting the room briefly, before laying the peat briquette and coal in the grate.

"Would you like to do the honours or shall I?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the fire lit, the warmth gradually filling the room, as Aziraphale settled back on his seat and drew Crowley up to sit across his lap and share his warmth. Crowley remained tense, golden eyes on the fireplace until he saw a small spark bounce off the ward Aziraphale had placed.

"Dear, you never told me about what you saw in the bookshop when you... took the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, while I was discorporated. Would you like to talk about it now?" Aziraphale asked gently.

"Mmnnah, not now. Sometime it's warm but there's no fire in the hearth," Crowley declined, snuggling even closer, head resting on Aziraphale's chest and arms tightening around the angel's waist.

"Of course, dear."


End file.
